


Knight in Black Armor

by ThornedDream



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Castles, Dragons, Elves, Multi, Rating May Change, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2018-12-26 20:36:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12066531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThornedDream/pseuds/ThornedDream
Summary: A fantasy AU with a Princess Allura, knight and royal bodyguard Shiro, mercenary Keith, bard Lance, mage Pidge, and blacksmith Hunk. Allura and Shiro struggle to not let romantic affection infiltrate their professional arrangement, Keith explores his identity and the consequences of his choices, Lance endeavors to get by during his travels without home, Pidge undertakes growth in her strength and ability, and Hunk learns what truly makes a hero worthy of legend. Champions, magic, dragons, and kingdoms! Oh my!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, friends!!! There are many excellent fantasy!au fics out there which I love a lot, but none that feature my favorite pairings, so I decided to make my own dreams come true. Here is my first chapter, and the next may come in a week or two, depending on the response I get here. Please note that everyone is aged down here because this is only the introductory set-up. Once the true plot begins, they’ll be closer to their canon-ish age groups.

The first time Princess Allura of the Altean Dynasty met Ser Takashi Shirogane, it was her sixteenth birthday.

The kingdom was in uproar with praise and celebration, commemorating the day their beloved princess reached the later half of her teenage years. Not yet a woman, but no longer a delicate child. It was now safe to assume she would reach adulthood in good health and prosperity, and that called for no small amount of cheer.

Kings and nobles from all across their lush green lands ventured with intent on indulging the fair elven beauty with gifts of gold, silver, rubies, sapphires, emeralds, and amber. Sparkly things that made the princess smile and giggle with glee. King Alfor loved seeing his small flower so overjoyed, and although it would not be nearly as sparkly as the others, he hoped his own gift would please her just as much.

“My precious treasure,” he called to her when all other gifts had finally been received, “I suppose it is now time for me to give you your final present?”

She remained silent in a polite air, not daring to voice just how impatient and eager she was. It was no secret how much the King doted over his only daughter, and so his gifts were always the most grand at every celebration.

He stood from his own throne of gold to approach the silver of Allura’s, and when he finally stood before her, he handed her the gift.

It was a tan parchment, rolled up as a scroll and dreadfully long. She curiously unrolled it, briefly scanning over a few words that were lengthy and dull. She was not simple, and she knew the meaning of these sophisticated words just fine. But they made her bored, and they failed to fully capture her attention. She read enough to understand this was no deed to any estates or palaces- no ownership of new horses, no inheritance of any treasure, nothing of any materialistic value. She was disappointed, but knew her father well enough to understand the gift had nothing but good intentions and would ultimately come to benefit her. So she smiled all the same, showing her white teeth and batting her long lashes. “Er- thank you so much, Father.”

But King Alfor was no fool, and he could see that Allura was dismayed, so he took the liberty of explaining loud enough for all to hear. “My sweet Allura, you have grown with beauty and charm, and you are now old enough to take on the responsibility of making new choices for yourself. You are no longer a small child, and I have no care to restrain you. I believe you should have the opportunity to wander further from the watchful gaze of your parents. And so I grant you this: the gift of freedom.”

Allura rose her brows, then blinked once. Lacey white lashes briefly hid orbs of crystal blue. “Freedom?” she asked, hoping for more of an explanation.

Alfor smiled, then brought his hands together to rest in a peaceful comfort. “I have taken the liberty of hiring for you the eldest son of my greatest knight commander. Takashi Shirogane, son of Ser Raiden Shirogane, has long proven his abilities, and after defending the nation against hostile invaders last month, he has been officially knighted this morning. His contract is in your hands, and I leave it for you to do with whatever you wish. You now have your own personal guard, and are free to travel where you like.”

Allura grinned wider, now genuinely pleased to receive such a gift. She loved her home and all of its rich luxuries, and was by no means yearning to escape it. But still, having the freedom to see new places without the fussing of her parents and their herd of endless servants would be a thrill.

She should have never doubted her father in the first place. His gifts were always in excellent taste, and this was no exception.

“Oh, thank you, Father! Thank you!” she cried, this time far more sincere, above the applause of the impressed guests.

King Alfor chuckled, then bent to kiss the forehead of his lovely daughter above the twisted curls of her gold circlet.

Far below the fine furnishings of the castle chambers, there was similar merriment and cheer, but for a much different cause.

Songs of heroes, dragons, champions, and love, filled the tavern and dining hall for the countless armed soldiers and palace guards.

A travelling elven bard clad in blue stood at the corner of the room, strumming away on his lute beneath his flawless voice. No note was missed, and no rhythm was stuttered. For more delicate songs he pulled out his small psaltery, and on occasion when his voice was sore from singing, he presented his gemshorn. It seemed there was no limit to what he could perform.

Takashi “Shiro” Shirogane sat closest to the musical talent, and around him were gathered his closest friends. “I’m flattered, really, but you didn’t have to go out of your way to hire a bard just for the occasion. I can’t imagine one of his skill was very cheap, either.”

“Forget it!” Hunk was the largest of them all- apprentice to the blacksmith of the castle armory. For being only sixteen, he was mighty and powerful, and he cheered with a strong slap to Shiro’s back. “This is a big day for you, and we’re going all out. No holding back. Besides, Lance is a good friend of mine. He gave us a discount.”

Shiro smiled, a bit eased with that thought. “Well, again: I’m flattered. Thank you, Hunk.” Then he peered across the table at Keith, who had his arms crossed and elbows leaning against the wood.

The other boy of sixteen stared beneath bangs the color of obsidian, and his gaze was irridescent, fading in the candlelight from hues of scarlet to violet. His attention was locked onto the hired entertainer, and Shiro interrupted his focus by deciding to address him next. “You don’t seem so excited, Keith. Not like the rest of us. What’s wrong?”

The mercenary gave a quiet sneer which was only almost unexpected, and his crossed arms tightened with more displeasure. “I think this is all bollocks- that’s what.”

Shiro frowned, visibly offput by Keith’s choice of words. “Hey! Remember to watch your language,” he spoke sternly. Then his expression softened to one of curiously, dropping a brow and asking, “But what makes you say that?”

Keith hissed between sharp teeth, then finally explained himself with an increasingly bitter voice. “You’re only eighteen and one of the best fighters this kingdom has to offer, Shiro! I’m serious- no one has ever seen anyone like you! You should be out on the front lines, winning more wars and conquering more enemies! Your strength alone should make you a king! But no- instead you’re hired to the purse strings of some prissy feather-head! You deserve better!”

“He’s right,” Pidge mumbled, seated close beside Keith. She was a small twelve year old mage who fidgeted with a green potted plant on the table, not watching but overhearing the exchange. “It is a bit of a waste of talent.”

“You see?!”

Shiro closed his eyes, trying hard to suppress his disappointment and frustration. “First, that ‘prissy feather-head’ is the heir and your future queen, and she’s far more clever than you give her credit for.”

Hunk nodded in agreement. As of this moment, none of them had ever truly met the Princess, but Hunk was likely the closest to having any justified opinion of her. As the apprentice to the head blacksmith on the castle grounds, he gained the most opportunities at hearing her decisions and he knew how capable she was. Everyone recognized she was a beauty, sure, but that did not mean she was a fool. Hunk understood that grace and ignorance did not always go hand-in-hand.

“Second, this is an honor. Nothing is more important to the kingdom than the one who will take after it, and it’s my job to ensure her safety. In doing so, I ensure the safety of our future. That's no small task, I assure you.”

Keith’s lips turned into a tighter frown, not appreciating the scolding.

“Third, that kind of bloodthirst will get you killed one day, Keith. War is not glorious.”

Keith was just about to open his mouth to argue more when the bard finished his song, then wandered to meet the friends at the table. “So here is our man of the hour, huh?” Despite being such a skilled singer, his speaking voice was sharp and rough in a comically charming way. His limbs were long and lanky, typical for an elf, and his brows curved in dramatic angles beneath brown strands and his massive hat.

“Yep!” Hunk answered quickly, happy to have his friend interrupt the uncomfortable argument. “Here is Ser Takashi Shirogane, son of Ser Raiden Shirogane and soon-to-be-guard of Princess Allura.”

“Oooh,” Lance rose a brow, impressed by the mouth-full of titles. “I don't know if I can repeat all of that. Do you mind still being called Shiro?”

“No, I don't mind,” Shiro affirmed with a blink, then squinted his dark eyes. “'Still’?” He asked, suddenly catching that strange word. “Have we met?”

“Nope!” Lance spoke in a cheer, taking the liberty of sitting beside Hunk and across from Pidge. The travelling elf seemed no older than fifteen, but had the coin to purchase a drink of ale for himself when a wench passed by. “I've only heard stories about your strength. You're a bit of a hero.”

“A hero?” Shiro asked, silently wondering where the bard’s parents were. “I wouldn't say I've ever done anything especially heroic. I've been defending the nation boarders and protecting troops, but that would be expected of any decent soldier, right?"

“It’s not about what you _have_ done,” Lance explained, humming and taking out a leather booklet to begin writing in it. Records of his travels, perhaps. “It's about what you _will_ do. From your few little deeds, more people know about you now and have their bets you’ll end up doing something greater. Myself included.” He smirked, then displayed a silver coin dancing between his fingers. In a flash, it disappeared, and he was back to writing.

“Well he can't do that if he's stuck to the side of a pampered princess, can he?” Keith spoke in a bitter sarcasm, earning another hard glare from Shiro.

The elf accepted his drink when it was handed to him, then took his first sip. “I dunno if I would worry about that. I say he has it good. The Princess is a bellibone, and I know plenty of boys who would take his job for him in a heartbeat.” Lance seemed no different from these mentioned boys, smooth cheeks becoming rosy and blue eyes twinkling with adoration at the image of a dream-girl he never met.

But this only infuriated Keith more, and he scowled loudly with a frustrated breath, throwing up his arms in disbelief. “Bah! I get it: everyone loves this girl! Enough with it!”

“Someone seems a little jealous, no?” Pidge mumbled with an amused smile, still focused on the green plant.

“I am _not_ jealous of Shiro,” Keith spoke defensively.

“That's not what I meant.” The smile was gone, and now Pidge traded her attention from the flower and leaves towards her satchel. She brought out some of her own coin, then paid for a meal of bread, lamb, and cabbage.

“Tell me: when do you finally get to meet this princess, hm?” Lance asked, ever intrigued by topic of Allura. As he leaned in towards the knight, the sandwiched Hunk leaned back to give him clearance.

“Well, I’m expected to meet her this evening at the main dance of her birthday celebration. For now she is protected by soldiers posted around the hall. But when the dancing begins, she’ll need someone kept closer in case someone dangerous tries to sweep her away. That's when I begin my work.”

Lance smirked, increasingly amused by this prospect. “Oooh, I see.”

“But it’s not what you think!” the eldest of the group insisted, reaching for his helm of dark steel. “This arrangement is purely professional, and I plan to keep it that way- no matter what you like to imagine.”

And that's what he told himself. But when he first landed his steel eyes on the princess, he knew how much of a challenge this would be.

He had been told repeatedly that she was breathtaking, but nothing would prepare him for that first sight. This elven beauty had hair shining like the purest silver in waves of cascading locks, and her eyes twinkled like fractals of crystal. Her skin was warm, soft, and flawless, and her neck was long and elegant.

His mouth turned dry, and his throat became tight. The metal of his helm did little to help the warmth spreading over his face, and soon it was hard to breathe.

Yes, this would prove to be very very very difficult.

But he had to hold composure, and he had to keep to his purpose. Tonight would be the beginning of his employment protecting the Princess. He was here expected to guard her, and nothing more. He had to remember that.

And when he watched the royal family finally stand from their thrones across the hall, he knew it was time.

The music swelled up in a great crescendo- harps, drums, a viol, a shawm, and a dulcimer. The dignified guests took the signal to begin their dancing, and Princess Allura watched as one noticeable figure emerged from the crowd. He was heavily armored, and the closer he approached, the colder her blood felt.

But his steps paused when he reached the bottom of the steps leading to their raised platform, and all her fear dissipated at once the moment he bent at the knee and bowed low towards the stone floor.

“Your Majesties, my king and queen, I am humbled before your presence.” His voice beneath the headgear was surprisingly calm, respectful, and polite. She smiled at the charming contrast.

Then she felt a hand on her shoulder blades, guiding her a few steps closer to the kneeling figure, and she heard her father’s voice speak. “Hello, Ser Takashi. May I present my daughter, Princess Allura, whom you will be guarding from this evening onward.”

Allura smiled with a shy angle when the kind voice spoke again. “It is an honor, and I will try my best to prove worthy of the trust you have so graciously given me.”

When it seemed formal introductions were finally exchanged, the princess allowed herself to clear her throat. In effect, the golden chains swung and shook from the jewel piercings along her pointed ears. “I am glad. You may rise now, Takashi.”

On command, the knight rose to stand on his feet, causing the steel of his dark armor to clack and chink with collision.

Allura turned to her mother and father, then asked, “And may I go dance?”

To this, her mother smiled lovingly and nodded her head in calm affirmation. “Of course, my jewel.”

And so the princess grinned, the white of her teeth a bright contrast against the richness of her skin. With glee she hurried forward to meet her guard and escort, and now standing this close, the intimidation returned full force.

He stood a full head taller than her, and he possessed massively broad shoulders which were only enhanced by the pauldrons of his armor. Her grin and excitement briefly shrunk, but then she caught the faintest glimpse of a friendly smile beneath the shadows of his helm, and he projected his elbow out in an offer for her to take. Then the grin and excitement were revitalized, and she looped her arm with his while he guided her away through the dancing crowd.

This “Takashi Shirogane” was a confusing blend of so many traits which baffled her. Born amidst an array of petty nobles with a snobbish demeanor, she had never met anyone like him before. So far, Takashi seemed strong, but gentle. Capable, but composed. Frightening, but charming. She could only imagine the face of the man beneath it all: rough, but handsome...

Feeling the new hammering in her chest and the new warmth on her cheeks, she knew that dancing among her guests this evening in such a light headed state would be difficult.

Yes, this would prove to be very very very difficult.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Between starting college and taking on more shifts, I had time to finish this chapter! Sorry it took longer than expected. I hope you'll still enjoy!

The following two years came with a peace that was all too quick to end.

Princess Allura grew with the elegant grace which was expected by all, contrasting the unpleasant foreign affairs that ailed her kingdom the winter of her eighteenth year. Altean forces crossed the northern sea to pass borders into the Galran Empire, and King Alfor had little understanding of how large a mistake that would measure up to be.

“Do you not understand?” Allura overheard her distressed father explaining to a red-haired advisor that same chilly season. “I did it to strike down the forces which would harm our poor neighbors before advancing to my own citizens! My actions were equally in favor of the Galra as myself!”

The previous summer, news arrived from across the sea that a strange magic was bringing rise to creatures who would gather and terrorize helpless citizens. Reanimated corpses, orcs, trolls, ogres, and the like. It was concerning, and as any righteous ally would care to do, Alfor sent his men to take down as many numbers he could. But instead of viewing the forces as assistance, Emperor Zarkon took them as signs of an invasion. The first blow to a coastal Altean city was landed only weeks later- far before Alfor could ever diplomatically explain himself.

So of course, King Alfor of Altea responded with a defensive attack of his own, and at that moment war was forged.

When Princess Allura heard the news, she turned to gaze at the guard who stood at her side, glad to have him here and off the battlefield. He had his own share of war, and although he championed through each battle, becoming the fear of every enemy nation, she still wished for him to see no more.

Instead he would be here to watch over her and provide companionship when it proved necessary. It was a far more comfortable task.

Indeed as the days passed, the fair princess found herself becoming closer and closer to the knight assigned to guard her. Takashi was a good man who had an excellent sense of right from wrong, and beneath the heavy armor which shielded him from the world, he still possessed a young heart. The occasional jest and laugh would rise from beneath hardened steel, and Allura adored that as much as she adored the rest of him. Whenever his softer side showed, she was reminded of how little he was different from her. He was not simply a suit of armor- beneath it, he was a warm blooded mortal man. It brought them closer, and from this grew a fluttering pink affection she would try hard to drive away.

Princesses do not belong with knights- especially not personal bodyguards.

She reminded herself of this every time he knelt before her on the ground and honored her name like gold. She reminded herself when she felt the smooth fingers of his gauntlet brush gently on the small of her back, leading her to safety and away from trouble. She reminded herself of this when he stepped before her, shielding her from danger with his life without a second thought.

But it was no use. For every moment she spent thinking about why they did not belong, there was another romantic daydream to go with it.

There was a day when she was lounging on a sofa in her mother’s art studio, watching as the talented queen painted an exquisitely accurate image of the flower vase before her. Takashi stood behind the backrest, silent but ever on guard. Allura wondered how her mother would react to seeing the knight removed from his armor and formality to rest here upon the soft furniture, cuddling beside the Queen’s royal daughter. Would she be pleased or horrified?

There was a night when Allura was preparing to retire. Her chambermaids were in a rush, struggling to unlace the challenging knots from her corset, and she couldn't help but have her idle mind wander to more scandalous places. She imagined how it would be to dismiss all her maids immediately, then call for Takashi to help instead. He was standing only a few feet away, just outside the privacy of her bedroom door. He would be able to hear. He would come in, and his face from beneath the helm would glow bright red as she requested his assistance. He would take a dagger from his belt, then run it up to slice the troublesome strings, and the restricting article would fall ever so delicately…

There was another afternoon when Allura insisted on riding her horse through the meadows beyond the moat, and so of course Takashi was brought to accompany her. She got the wonder of what would happen if she feigned a twisted ankle. Would she be brought back to her home on Takashi’s same stallion, securely cradled before him in his arms? This curiosity, just this once, brought her to act. Indeed, when she pretended to stumble, then whined about a sharp pain in her foot, the honorable guard insisted on riding her back home immediately. Her horse was roped to his, and onward he sped. It was worth the week of fussing done by the nurses until they saw there was no longer any pain inflicted upon their princess.

Her parents also considered disallowing her to embark on any more “adventures,” despite the fact these trips could hardly be considered such- no, not like the adventures in the storybooks of her childhood.

Her father was more adamant, her mother usually the more carefree of the two. “I don't care what you say- I won’t allow it!” he insisted, of course only minutes before his precious daughter won him over with her big sweet eyes. No words were even needed said.

And so the “adventures” continued, bringing Allura to enjoy the fields and trees outskirting her palace. They never lasted long, the lengthiest being only one overnight camp a few miles from the back gate. But the times alone with her companion were valuable, no matter how brief.

Which was why on the first day of spring, she pleaded with her parents to have a longer stay in the forests further from her home. It took some great convincing, but they finally agreed. She would camp for two nights and three days, returning the night of the third.

“We must stop by my mother’s house first to take up some extra supplies,” Takashi explained past the doorway while the princess eagerly stuffed her pack with as many warm clothes as she could possibly fit. “More days require more equipment.”

“Your mother?” Allura gasped as she held the velvet emerald dress to her chest. “Am I going to meet your mother?”

The helm hid Takashi’s emotions, but she could hear the bashfulness in his voice. “I suppose so, yes.”

Allura’s grin at that moment was large and white, sparkling like diamonds, and she jumped with glee. “Oh how exciting! I'm sure she is a lovely woman! Tell me: where will we meet her? Where does she live?”

“In the lower west district.” The answer came heavy and crushing, pulling down her spirits with it.

“But that’s…-”

“The poorest district, I know.”

Allura was speechless, so Takashi continued to explain, “The life of a widow is difficult. But fret not; my pay goes to her, and Keith works equally hard to keep her sustained and comfortable.”

So Allura continued packing and asked, “Is he your brother?”

“No, not quite.” Takashi shook his head, then smiled beneath the veil of steel before him. Allura was packing a light blue dress he recognized and adored- it was a lovely color on her. “He was discovered in the middle of winter as an orphaned babe. Mother heard cries from a barrel outside a tavern, then took him home. Father needed convincing, but he ultimately stayed.”

“Has he more or fewer years?”

“Than me?”

“Yes, silly.”

Takashi resisted a playful laugh, then finally answered, “Fewer.”

“But not so many, I’m assuming, since he works?”

“I’m two years his elder. Some time ago he signed as a squire to a lord so he may begin the same training as I, but soon ran off to abandon the prospect. Knighthood wasn't so suitable for him, I suppose. Now the work he does is a bit less… professional than mine.”

Allura seemed to understand, since she nodded her head and hummed while observing a yellow and pink dress of silk fabrics. “Then I will ask no more on it.”

This respect for Takashi’s family was shown once again as the royal carriage pulled before the small hovel of his home. The sheltered vehicle would take them through the crowded streets of the city, then the pair would pass beyond the gate with the two horses towed in the back.

“Quickly!” Allura cheered, hiking up all her skirts and already leaning towards the door. “I want to meet your family!”

Her enthusiasm was adorable, and this time, Takashi couldn't help a chuckle. He gently stopped her with a hand on her shoulder, then made sure to climb out of the carriage before she did. As she emerged, he hid her well behind his cape and the shield which stood as tall as her. The trip to the front door was short, and as they passed through, Allura was hit with the sensation of homely warmth amidst humility. It was a contrast from the stone grandeur of her castle.

“Takashi!” a kind but strained voice called when the door was finally closed behind the pair. An older woman smiled, wrinkles forming at the ends of her mouth, and she rushed forward to bring the tall warrior into a hug.

“Hello, Mama,” he bashfully greeted in return, then removed his helmet so she could kiss the scar over his nose. As always, his hair was a mess from the armor.

“You haven't written to me in weeks!” she scolded with an ever lighthearted tone. “I was starting to worry.”

He might have chosen to explain how busy he had been, guarding the heir more and more as war began, but decided against it. No excuses should ever keep him from his mother. So instead, he simply bowed his head with guilt- a sign all in itself that he was overworked and too used to formalities. “I pray you’ll forgive me, Mama.”

“Oh hush hush! Perish the shame, really. You’re home!” Then with one last hug, the short woman separated herself from her son and grinned at Allura. Above aged wrinkles, her eyes were sharp with an ever young wit. They were black as the night, shimmering with white constellations, and Allura could finally tell where Takashi got his own pair. “And you brought a girl! A lovely girl!” the woman cried with glee, then took the princess’s hands into her own. “What is your name, my dear? How long have you been on my son’s arm?”

Never being wealthy enough to purchase a portrait of the royal family, and never being considered important enough to attend events, the common woman did not recognize Princess Allura. There was a slight shame in Allura’s stomach, seeing how this is the way most of her people lived: not even able to identify the faces of those they entrusted to rule over and protect them.

At his mother's false assumptions, Takashi’s face flooded a bright scarlet, and his mouth opened with shock. Before he could make any corrections, however, Allura offered her own answer with no small amount of color upon her own two cheeks. “My name is Luna, good lady. Your sweet son has been courting me for three months now. The princess dismissed him so we may enjoy a picnic in the valley for a few days.”

“Oooh, I see.” The woman nodded, then turned towards the larder in the back of the home. “Then I'll pack up some treats for you two to enjoy.”

When she was away from earshot, Takashi turned to his companion, mortified with embarrassment. “Why did you lie to my mother?” he insisted on knowing.

“It's better this way,” she tried providing, but he still didn't understand.

“How?!”

Allura pouted, then crossed her arms. She had no care for the way he was questioning her logic. “Consider this, Takashi Shirogane: if word got around that your mother spoke to the Princess, this place would be pillaged in a matter of days. Robbers would pick this place dry, searching for any valuables.”

Takashi could no longer argue with that reasoning, and his lips were silenced into an awkward line.

That was when the mentioned mother returned, a satchel of breads, sausages, and cheeses wrapped up in a charming cloth. “Here you go, my dears. This should last you a meal or two.”

Takashi took the food, then placed an appreciative kiss onto his mother’s cheek. “Many thanks, Mama. There are still a few other items I need. Is Keith present?” While he spoke, he wandered forward to the crooked wooden staircase leading towards the upper rooms.

“Oh, yes.” She followed her son, then peered up the same stairs he stood beside. “He just came home a few hours ago. The poor lad was exhausted and irritable, so I’m sure he's resting.”

“I will speak to him, then.” Takashi ascended the stairs, leaving Allura with his mother. That may not have been the best of ideas, but it was preferable to having his royal friend hear what kind of illegal work his brotherly figure endeavored in.

“Tired?” he asked, seeing the mercenary collapsed upon the many furs and blankets of his cot.

A groan was his response, so Takashi wandered across the room to gather blankets from what was once his own bed. “Has work been difficult?”

“Especially with that damned archer running about.” Keith spoke clearly instead of mumbling this time.

“You mean Lance, yes?”

“Yes!” Keith rose from his cot to sit on the edge, anger blazing hot in his eyes. “He takes all my kills, and I’m losing coin for it!”

“I still say you two should join your efforts and double the earnings.” Takashi took a pillow into his arms, then searched behind a dresser for some old iron and flint he remembered stashing there. 

But Keith was far from swayed to Takashi’s suggestion. He scoffed, then rolled his shimmering eyes. “I'd sooner be damned-”

“-By your own pride.”

Keith groaned louder, frustrated with the stubborn lecturing of his brotherly figure, then collapsed back down onto the cot.

Smiling with his mild victory, Takashi gathered some rope and a tarp stored beneath his old bed to finally fill every inch of his arms. This was when Allura heard Keith’s displeased shout, and called upward towards the rooms. “Hello? Is everything fine up there?”

Keith looked to Takashi, then immediately asked, “Who was that?”

The air was suddenly cold, and Takashi couldn't possibly bring himself to move.

“...That was- um, Luna.”

The shorter black-haired boy squinted suspiciously, then got up to wander towards the staircase. “Who in blazing Hell is Luna?”

“She is-” the warrior began to explain, but not before Keith finally took a few descending steps onto the stairs to see who had called for them. 

“I had no idea you fancied elves,” he said in a low whisper when he finally caught view of the unaware maiden downstairs. His smile was crooked into an amused smirk as Takashi glared back.

“As though you were any different?” the older man bitterly teased back in equally soft mumble.

“Hey!” Keith hissed louder. _“Shut it!”_

The mother finally heard the pair, so she gestured her hand for them to come closer, then called for them. “Boys, come downstairs to speak with us! Luna was just telling me how she plays music for the royal court.”

“Yes.” Takashi’s voice came out unsure and awkward. “She plays the harp beautifully. The princess loves her songs, and indeed that's how we met.”

It was a half-truth, considering Allura did indeed play the harp, and Takashi did indeed think it beautiful.

Still, he hated fooling his mother in any way such as this, for a half-truth is equally a half-lie.

The woman grinned gleefully, not knowing the intricacy of this web the two friends were weaving together, but Keith wasn't convinced. He continued his suspicious glares even as the pair departed out the front door. They left as soon as they came, and before any further questions could possibly be asked.

The journey from then on to a suitable camping site took only a few hours. As the light of the sky was brought down to make way for night, they settled down in a comfortable array complete with one fire and two separate tents.

This first day, they enjoyed a majority of the foods Takashi’s mother wrapped for them.

The second day, Takashi escorted Allura as she wandered along the stream, then enjoyed a small flask of red wine at supper with her. This was when she begged him to spend just two more nights out in the forest, and being both too drunk and too smitten to refuse, he could only accept.

The third day, he understood with sober rue the weight of his actions, and the consequences that would inevitably come with them. “But you promised!” the princess cried against him when he attempted to bring up the issue once again. And alas, he _did_ promise, so how could an honest knight go back on his word?

So on the fourth day, when the princess should have been back home, she was instead travelling up a trail to enjoy all the views the rolling knolls could provide.

And only on the daybreak of the fifth morning did they finally take leave to return.

Now it was approaching the dark of evening, and the sun was only a gold and scarlet sliver in the sky above the horizon of hills and shallow ravines. Before them, the silhouette of the kingdom rose above the land, and the towering heights of the castle were distinct. Most smaller buildings were shrouded by the distance, but not this grand spectacle. Buttresses, bastions, embrasures, tapestries, and terraces, were all crisp amidst the fog of growing twilight.

“I do pray we’ll return before nightfall,” the elven princess spoke warily, saddled atop a gorgeous dapple grey mare. The white spots paralleled an arrangement of stars that the two companions would see soon, else they made haste.

“If we don’t,” Takashi’s voice spoke beneath the reverberating metal helm, “then it will be because I delayed our departure early this morn. If we need it, I’ll take us to the finest inn. Know that I will pay extra for your anonymity, and your door shall be guarded through the night. But no matter when we return, I plan to take up the consequences with your parents.”

To this, the princess pouted, then signaled her mount forward. “You did not ‘delay’ us, Takashi. You were chasing off a wolf who had been circling my own camp for far too long. A brave and noble cause, if there were ever any.”

Despite his efforts, he still wasn't sure the wolf had been completely driven away. He swore he caught glimpses of its grey coat here and there, trailing close but far behind them while they traveled.

But it would be best to put that out of mind, for there were indeed larger problems to concern himself with. “Still, Princess, it was my duty to return you home by yesterday eve. The arrangement was for you to camp a total of three days, not five. You had never been apart from the palace this long, and Their Majesties will be most displeased with me.”

“Worry not about them,” she assured once more, flashing a fond smile over her shoulder. “I will ensure no harm comes to you.”

“You seem to forget that I am your guard before your friend.”

Then the smile was gone, and the princess returned her attention forward. “No, I do not forget. You, however, seem to forget that your contract is in the care of my hands, not my parents.”

“Mere technicalities in the eyes of those who rule over these lands, as well as us both. Your father is not known for his laxity over his only daughter.”

And this point was only further demonstrated late that night, when the pair finally crossed the portcullis past the drawbridge. There, alerted of their return and visibly waiting, was King Alfor himself. Behind him were positioned three rows of nearly thirty soldiers, all pointed at the guard armored heavily in black steel. What’s more: these were only the men he could see. Takashi would bet gold that there were a great many archers trained on him from the shadows of the ramparts as well.

“Tell me: What business had you to keep my daughter from me a grand two days later than scheduled?” King Alfor’s voice was hard with a booming anger that shook from his chest and rattled the nerves in Takashi's core.

But before answering, the knight righteously removed himself from the protection of his helm, exposing his head and revealing the strong handsome features upon his face. He then carefully dismounted from his stallion to immediately kneel upon the filth of the ground. He had not even a care to avoid the muddy puddle his hands and knees were inevitably soiled in. He moved in a slow motion, communicating that he held no desire to fight or resist what punishment waited for him. It was a demonstration of submission and deference.

“None, Your Majesty. Words fail to excuse my incompetence,” he spoke humbly to the cobblestone below him. His onyx eyes were shadowed by his ebony bangs and shut tight, braced for the worst. He was truly a man of honor and bravery, and Allura was just this once sickened by it. She wanted her friend to cower and beg for his life, or fight back and defend himself- she didn’t want him glorious, she wanted him safe.

But she would never see such a thing from him, and she knew it.

“Indeed.” Alfor glowered, ire burning white in his own eyes, then he began his march forward. The men behind him were not signaled to follow, so they remained in position.

With each mighty step, Allura clutched tighter at the leather reins on her horse. She knew the rage her usually composed father was capable of. She knew how dangerously valued and adored she was by him. She knew what his infrequent but powerful wrath could bear. When his hand moved to the jeweled hilt of his sword, ready to unsheathe the sharp golden glint of his blade, Allura felt her heart stop and her blood freeze cold.

“No!” she shrieked, then brought her mare forward to shield her friend from the rage of her father. “You will not kill him. I will not have it.”

“Allura?!” King Alfor exclaimed, astonished by the boldness of his daughter. “You dare defy me?”

Takashi’s own eyes were now flown opened wide, shocked to find his head still remaining on his shoulders. He looked up, then saw the stricken face upon the King and the wild rebellion in his daughter.

“I dare,” the princess answered in a voice hard and firm. “Take my riches, take my stables, take my freedom, but do not take him. It was I who demanded an extra two days to camp in the valley. I am responsible.”

Alfor eased the grip on his sword, then glared hard at the kneeled young man below him. “You would face punishment to spare this knight his life?”

The princess nodded her head, fine jewels and chains shaking from her dusky ears and silver locks. “Yes, I would.”

King Alfor froze, watching his daughter once again. Takashi could see that the man was torn between defending the honor of his royal family, and granting the wishes of his darling daughter. Did he hate defiance more than he loved Allura? No, clearly not. He finally removed his grip from the hilt of his elven blade, then regarded the lowly human with a displeased scowl. “Do not forget that your life was spared today by the grace of my daughter, and my awful habit of doting over her. Instead, you will be arrested, and considering the circumstances, I trust you will obey.”

“Arrested?” Allura cried angrily, unsatisfied with even this. “Father, this is-”

“Do not test my patience any further, Allura!” the King roared above his daughter, silencing her words. When she became quiet, he calmed himself and smoothed his voice. “For two days I sat in worry, not knowing what became of you. Your poor mother wept. I lost sleep. It’s only fitting that the one responsible for watching over you be punished somehow. If you don’t wish him executed, then fine. So be it. We are not savage brutes like our enemies across the sea, and we will exercise mercy. But I will see him arrested, and you will say nothing more of it.”

Allura could do nothing but purse her lips into a line, then lower her head with surrender. “Yes, Father.”

Takashi considered speaking out comfort to the Princess, assuring her that this was by every means fine with him- certainly more kindness than he was ever expecting to be shown. But he feared that opening his mouth to say anything would yield further consequences, so he instead held onto silence.

The King raised two fingers, then angled them forward, signaling for the pair of his highest-ranking soldiers to come forth. When they obeyed, he turned to one, ordering him to shackle Ser Takashi Shirogane and take him to the dungeons beneath the palace. Then he turned to the other, and ordered him to round up the two mounts and take them to the stables. Allura would be escorted to her chambers by her father, and there he would speak to his wife and decide together how to best discipline their unruly daughter.

The peak of night arrived as Takashi lay seated upon the hard stone of the cell which contained him, gazing up at the pale moonlight which shone onto the iron chains which held him down.

Only a few hours ago he was the pride of this kingdom’s forces- a honor-bound soldier to be feared by any wise opponent. Now he was a dishonest traitor who had fallen under the cursed temptation of affection. If only he had steeled his heart, then the Princess would be free of her father’s fury and he would be free of these chains and bricks. It was his own weakness that ruined them both.

They were foul thoughts like these that sickened his conscious as his eyes darkened and his breath came out in weary sighs.

The day could have concluded so much more pleasant, just as it could have concluded much worse.

And as the moon began its sure descent from among stars, fate would decide that the events of this time would not end so quickly.

A great shake rattled the ground beneath the prisoner, and it came along with a loud, roaring blast that echoed off the distant downs. Warm flashes of yellow and orange and red replaced the blue glow of the moon. Then it came again, and again, and again.

Takashi now understood that the castle was under siege.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry: the garrison trio will appear more during the next chapter while the kingdom is under attack! I haven't forgotten them- I promise!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Galran Empire attacks the capital and everything goes wrong. Everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> College is k i c k i n g m y a s s.
> 
> I'm so sorry for the wait, everyone! It also didn't help that this chapter is immensely long? Like what the heck? Why did I do this to myself? Hopefully no other chapters will end up being this long again, because dear jesus christ and his holy mother mary, I cannot keep doing this. ANYWAYS!!! After such a long wait, I hope this chapter is substantial enough to make my readers happy. Enjoy, lovelies.

King Alfor could not have been any less prepared for the attack.

Half his men were resting for the night in the barracks, leaving only the other half defensively stationed around the perimeter of his castle. With one single line of defense, the inside was left vulnerable. It would take getting past only that first wall to tear his precious kingdom down from its heart.

This situation was far from optimal. Emperor Zarkon found the chance to strike at Alfor’s weakest moment, and he took it.

“Wake the troops!” Alfor commanded in a harsh roar to nearby guards while rushing down the hall from his daughter’s chambers. People all around were in a panic. It was all hysteria. “Send for Commander Blaytz! We must build up more defenses immediately!”

With his wife following close behind, Alfor allowed himself to whisper deep, unheard to anyone else. “Commander Raiden, however, would be more ideal. Blaytz is satisfactory, but Raiden… I curse the day he fell.”

That was many years ago, but their forces were never quite the same since then. Never quite as glorious. King Alfor never spoke it to his men for fear it might damage morale, but his wife was a friend he could confide in his worries.

“Joining his son again to our forces would also be more ideal…” she grumbled low, a hint of mild scorn in her voice. She had protested Alfor’s resolve to imprison their most valued knight since the moment she heard of it, and even now she held onto that objection.

He had no care for it, however, and only proceeded down the hall. With his wife, he entered the undercroft courtroom and joined the chaos of his commander, advisors, and select councilmen.

“How did Zarkon know when we were vulnerable to attack?” The King heard one distressed advisor cry out immediately upon passing through the doors.

“Nevermind that,” a councilman quickly replied, “how did they even pass the city gates without commotion?”

With these thoughts and worries, the volume of the room only increased hysterically, and the chaos grew rampant.

“Enough!” Alfor roared, striding to the other end of the room to seat himself in the carved oak chair designated for him before the round table. The elven furniture was a matching array of gnarled roots and twisting branches to reach up and support the scattered clutter of papers, scrolls, and maps. “We will find these answers after we wipe out the invaders. Have we any plans to address this first?”

He looked to Blaytz, who took the signal to clear his voice and speak. His thin brows were anxiously curved with fear, and for once, his smug smile was absent in trade for a worried frown. “We have gathered a few, Your Majesty, but I am not certain if any will be substantial enough to impress you.”

“Tell me regardless,” the monarch demanded while leaning forward to rest elbows on his table. His bold and composed demeanor furiously betrayed his internal panic. It was a desirable trait in any great leader.

Even as the brief list drew on, it slipped but once or twice in a rub onto his face or a slight sigh. He never showed great disappointment, but never showed great enthusiasm. The latter was far more expected.

When the words ended and silence began once again, Alfor turned to look at Blaytz, then urged, “Have you any other strategies?” It was a mild way of saying, “I cared for none of your ideas.”

Commander Blaytz opened his mouth to answer, likely with a timid refusal, but a familiar great shake and roar crudely interrupted him. Another fire strike. It was now evident that the enemy had not one, but many trebuchets. Just an additional item to add to their growing list of disadvantages.

Rubble fell from the undercroft ceiling, and the stones in the walls shifted if only just a hair.

When the air was settled once again around them, councilmen sighed, advisors dusted their robes, and Commander Blaytz stepped away from the nearest wall.

But Queen Thalia scowled with exasperation, then finally turned to stomp away towards the ascending staircase behind her.

“Where are you going?” her husband called to her, curious of her unspoken intentions.

“To do what I can!” she roared over her shoulder towards the cowering men. They flinched from her words. “I refuse to die here sitting and doing nothing. There are lives to save.”

“Thalia, wait!”

But the queen was gone before her husband could think to stop her.

And over layered stone she wandered, floors echoing the noise of her steps. She would walk many staircases down, down, down to the bottom halls of her castle, where her objective waited.

The walls of Takashi’s cell would contain his body and all the slams and shoves it would commit against unrelenting stone, but the walls would not contain his shouts and roars of frustration.

Conversely, they would not keep out the clattering clamor of the oncoming battle. He could hear it all beyond the single window his prison provided.

It was chaos.

He could hear men fighting and dying to defend the castle, and for once, there was nothing Ser Takashi Shirogane could do to help.

Every guttural shriek and every battle cry cut off short made his nerves jump. They sent an adrenaline pumping through his veins- a panicked instinct to go out and defend the troops. He could help, he had to help!

He could save lives!

The more he heard, the more he struggled. But the chains wouldn't allow his freedom. They kept him bound to the slick stone of the floor beneath him. There was enough slack for him to walk and wander about the cell, but it wasn't enough slack to weaken the bond of the links. Takashi was a powerful man, but no matter how he tugged with all his might, they would never give.

These were forged from a mighty ore known only to the great elven kingdom of Altea. It was believed to be nothing less than indestructible, and he would not be free from its strength any time soon.

Defeated, he slumped against a wall, then slid down to sit on the floor. It was far from comfortable, but he was far from caring.

Long, empty, draining minutes passed. In his mind, he measured three hours into the battle before there was another sound that snatched his attention. It was closer and far less threatening.

Behind him, there was the familiar noise of metal disturbing metal, and then the door to his cell was thrown hastily open.

Takashi turned to see who had unlocked the door, and through the passage came a breathless and panicked woman beneath a hooded cloak. All he saw were lips of soft pink which rose above a dusky brown, and the known sight made him think of the princess.

But as the light velvet hood was removed, he saw that this was not his bonny Princess Allura. Instead, it was her mother, Queen Thalia.

“Y-your Majest-” Takashi began with a drop to his knee, but he was quickly silenced and brought up to his feet by the rushed woman.

“Hush, please! There is no time! I must release you immediately.”

Takashi was surprised with how he welcomed that prospect, and he offered no opposition as she hurried forward and began unlocking the manacles which restricted him.

The sense that this was unjust did not completely leave him, however. “Does your husband know you intend to free me?” he anxiously asked as she worked on the difficult locks with ancient keys.

“No,” she admitted bluntly, eyebrows pinched with determined focus, “and I care not. He should have never locked our best soldier to begin with. Our men need you.”

Takashi turned his gaze to watch the splattering golden glow on the night sky. One hour into the attacks, and the light was still vibrant as ever. The enemy had a great deal of firepower, and the fortress was in a great deal of danger.

“Is the Princess safe?” was inevitably his next question.

The Queen nodded her head, royal silver hair bobbing in her disheveled bun. “For now. My husband is arranging an escape for her with his closest advisor.”

This news brought Takashi’s steely gaze to open wide, and he looked down with disbelief at his royal rescuer. “Escape? You mean you intend to retreat?” For that, the enemy must have made a fearsome amount of progress.

Or not, perhaps? His hope jumped a little when she shook her head. “My husband and I will not retreat, no.”

It shriveled and died, however, when she proceeded to explain, “But Galran soldiers have finally breached our walls, so our daughter must be sent away.”

His gauntlets were scraped, but finally released from the manacles, and as the Queen turned to lead him away, he continued with his endless string of questions. “If the enemy has breached this place, why do you and your husband remain?”

For many great moments she said nothing and only guided him forward through the dungeon chambers, and he began to wonder if he would never receive an answer.

But then she stopped at the end of the hall to cautiously look both ways, and she let a shaky breath slip past her lips. With the assurance that their path was clear, she granted herself a moment to pause and turn to meet his stare again.

Her face was tired and weary with fright, but her eyes were hard with an ever lingering defiance and powerful will. This was where Allura got her wild rebellion, surely.

“We are a proud people, and as the rulers of this kingdom, we must stand strong. To give in to the enemy would demonstrate weakness. That is why my husband and I will defend our thrones until the very last-”

And then her words were cut off with an immediate gasp. She stood, suddenly stricken with an upright terror, and her opalescent eyes were wide. Takashi lowered a brow, not understanding what brought on such a reaction, and then he saw it:

First, there was a welling of red at the corners of her parted lips. They appeared like sproutlings rising slowly from the earth. Then he looked down and saw the same crimson shade pooling quickly onto her dress, right above her bosom.

The harsh scent of iron hit Takashi’s senses as Thalia tumbled forward, and aided by his reflexes, he successfully caught her in his tender arms. Now he could see the sharp violet knife intruding her back between shoulder blades, and the fresh blood which rose around it.

This dagger had pierced through and reached the queen’s collar, and he knew that for the blood seen over her chest. It was a fatal wound that would make short work of her. No matter how much he hated it, he knew.

With haste he rose his stare, and at the far end of the hall behind the queen, he saw a Galran assassin cloaked in grey. He had a satisfied smirk on his lips, and seeing that damned coy smile lit a new rage in Takashi’s nerves.

“You… you-!” he hollered, gently laying the coughing queen down onto the ground so she may rest her stunned body.

He sprinted, the weight of his hulking armor diminished to nothing in light of his anger. He had no weapon to battle with, but still showed no sign of hesitation. He barrelled forward like a bolt of lightning, then upon reaching his target, grabbed an arm and twisted it so he may throw the enemy over his shoulder and onto the ground before him. There was a sick crunching noise as the man’s elbow was bent over Takashi’s shoulder.

The enemy howled with pain, but even then, Takashi was not finished. He snatched the now-broken arm again, then used it to spin the soldier around and build momentum. Suddenly he let go and sent the assassin plummeting into the hard face of the wall beside him. The Galran soldier groaned weaker as he slid down the stone and crouched with increasing pain. Broken ribs joined his similarly injured arm, teeth were missing in a spray of blood, and black bruises decorated his face.

He never stood a chance. Maybe he knew that and still decided to act for his empire anyways.

Victory or death- that was the Galra way.

“Where is your commander?” Takashi demanded in a hard voice as his progressing steps were slow, deliberate, and loud. “Tell me where your central force is stationed, and I’ll give you a chance to live. I'm not like you- I value life.”

But grunts of pain were replaced with sniggering chuckles, and the assassin reached to grab yet another knife from his belt. “You think you can win this war? You’re all daft. I can tell you everything you want to know, and you’ll still lose.”

The powerful warrior chose not to lunge or snatch the knife away, confident that he could overpower the man regardless.

“We have something none of you will ever have,” the defeated soldier proceeded without coaxing.

So Takashi decided to play along and ask, “What is that?” purely out of humored curiosity.

“We have a weapon that will shake Hell and shatter the heavens. With it, we’ll kill every last one of you miserable worms.” Then at last, the knife was raised and tossed through the air, aimed between Takashi’s eyes.

But the warrior’s reliable reflexes caught the weapon before it could inflict any harm, and he then knelt down so he could hold the enemy’s own blade to his neck. “Sounds impressive, but it’s a shame you won’t be there to see it.” The blade was then swiftly crossed over the assassin’s neck, and in a flood of crimson heat, the man was dead.

Takashi sighed with disappointment, then stood and dropped the sharp item to the soiled ground beside the lifeless figure. Killing never brought him any joy, but the assassin had his chance to live and instead retaliated with another attack.

With the rage of defense gone, Takashi was now left only with panic and worry. He turned to see the still collapsed form of his queen, and ran back to her side. “Your Majesty!” he cried, falling to his knees beside her.

With care, the human brought the elven woman into his arms, then turned her so she may look at him. Her eyes lost their stunning iridescence, now dull and grey and unfocused. Energy was escaping her with each passing moment, but she still lived. Takashi could tell since her eyes were moving intelligently.

“I’m here, I’m here. Your attacker is dead, and I will find help for you.”

But the injured woman knew better, and she weakly smiled and spoke in a whisper while mildly shaking her head. “There is no help for me, my dear.”

“What?” Takashi shook his head back in return, stubborn and defiant. “No, that’s not true! I’ll find a healer, you’ll see! I have a friend: Katie! Maybe she can…”

The warrior knew, however, that he spoke to convince himself more than the dying queen. Panicked tears welled at the corners of his eyes as a delicate hand was raised to pat his cheek.

A few hours ago he had been determined to save the troops out on the battlements, and yet he failed to project just one of the few people who defined this kingdom. It was gut-wrenching.

“You have a good heart, Takashi.” It was the first time she addressed him by his name alone- no surname or honorifics. There was a warm comfort in it. He brought his head down with shame, thinking he didn't deserve nearly so much assurance.

“I can see why my daughter adores you so.”

At the mention of Allura, Takashi’s eyes grew rounder, and a mild warmth came over his cheeks. “The Princess?”

The woman took a moment to wheeze, red splattering from her stained lips at the convulsion. When her breath returned, she continued. “I want you to take good care of her for me.” The weak smile on the Queen’s lips grew, a faint mixture of solemn awareness and fond hope. “Keep her safe, teach her to protect herself when you cannot, and above all else: make her happy.”

But this did nothing to bring the warrior peace. He shook his head again, holding the Queen tighter, then spoke frantically as tears threatened his eyes. “No, I… I can’t! You’ll be there to see it done yourself! You will survive this and you will see your daughter happy again, I swear it!”

Were the Queen stronger, she may have laughed a light tinkle. “No. I know this is my end. I will not see her again. Please promise me you’ll love her true. Promise me-”

“I can’t.” He insisted once more. “I have no right.” He was merely a knight, a soldier, a bladed servant. He had no place at the side of a princess.

“You have the only right.” Her voice was fading like the smoke that followed an extinguished flame. It was tired and weak. “Please give a dying woman her last wish. Please promise me.”

Takashi sucked in a desperate breath as sobs wracked his body, and he managed out a whispered, “I promise,” before the Queen finally fell limp in his arms. Her arms hung at her sides, and her head was cradled secure in his elbow.

When his sobs finished and his nerves were still, he took the time to gently lower the queen’s lids over her lifeless eyes. He removed the defiling object from her back, then placed her in a peaceful lay over the stone of the ground. The velvet cloak was taken from her shoulders to lay over her mortal body while he knelt and prayed for her safe journey to the next life.

A queen deserved more- she deserved better. He knew this. Her body deserved to lay among roses in a bed of marble and silk, peacefully tucked in an undisturbed hall to rest in silence. Time was short, however, and circumstances were urgent. He did all he could to honor her passing and praise her memory, but he could not linger.

He had a kingdom to save or die for, and he had a queen to avenge.

With prayers whispered and her memory honored, Takashi finally rose to stand on his feet and march onward with purpose. He pocketed the culpable knife, then went to take more off the still warm body of the assassin. The warrior was inexperienced with such minute blades, and he would not find himself nearly as skilled as mercenary Keith, but these weapons were preferable to none at all.

With haste he sped up the spiraling stone staircases of the castle, ascending from the dark dampness of the dungeon. He memorized the map well, and made all the right steps and turns needed to navigate towards the main keep.

His breath came out heavy and tired through the chilly air, and the disturbance of his armor gave a great commotion. His legs burned with a roaring opposition from running so much, and his head was beginning to float light. Still, he pressed on. He would not allow his discomfort to hold him back from saving lives.

From the lowest floors he traveled through the training field, between the now empty military barracks, and past the soldier bath house. No person was to be seen anywhere.

When he passed through the soldier dining hall, however, he saw four Altean men slumped up against the wall beside the hearth. He hurried to their sides only to find that they were already dead, killed by familiar violet knives.

He was too late. The assassin must have traveled this way.

He cursed under his breath, then relieved the bodies of their offensive knives and took them for himself. With not another moment wasted, he pressed on. If he wanted to stop this siege, he couldn't afford to spend time giving these men prayers as well.

He wanted to- by the Gods, he wanted to. But there was no time.

It was a longer run to the keep, and by the time he got there, the enemy had already infiltrated its walls. He could hear the fighting past the open passageways- the collision of iron and grunts of pain.

He took his collection of knives into his grasp, then brought a deep breath into his lungs to brace himself. With his mind clear and nerves ready, he charged forward into the main hall of the keep, and he joined the conflict with a vigor that came down like a storm onto the villains.

Well, a weak storm that barely managed to strike anything of true value.

The knives he threw only lodged one Galra soldier in the bicep, and the rest flew across the hall to meet stone floor.

Damn it. He knew he was bad with throwing knives, but that display was nothing short of pathetic.

“Takashi!” he heard King Alfor cry, but the lack of honorifics was not merry the same way it was spoken by his wife. It was fast, hard, surprised, and panicked.

The past knight turned his head, and through the towering figures of threatening invaders, he could see that King Alfor was completely surrounded and overwhelmed.

“Oh dear…” Takashi sighed in an anxious breath, then hurried forward to join the monarch in his fight.

Running forward, the diminishing range of his targets allowed Takashi to successfully throw one knife between the shoulders of a poorly armored Galran soldier. With the man down, the warrior was given a window to hurry through and break past the circle of closing in enemies. He now stood at the king’s side, and the two men were back-to-back.

“I know not how you escaped your prison…” the elven king spoke to his human ally between exhausted pants, “but frankly, I am in no position now to complain.”

An enemy dared to progress forward for an attack, so Takashi used one blade to leave a small cut on his neck beneath the jaw, and he then forced a second blade from his other hand through the chain link maille. The second assault was fatal, but not instantaneously so, which was why he landed one last blow with a kick to the opponent’s head. The Galran soldier went down then with a strained yelp.

Another enemy lunged for the two men, so Takashi grabbed three more blades, praying one would drive the attacker back. Indeed, the Gods blessed one knife to land with a gruesome hit to an unshielded forehead. A stream of red ran down between amber eyes and over a wrinkled plum nose as the man toppled forward. With this victory, the human chanced a moment to reach for his belt and seize more blades.

He was stricken with chilling fear, however, when he realized he possessed no more. His recent kill took the last of them.

Now he would have to fight onward with his hands and weight alone.

Very well. No surrender would arrive from him this day, and if fate demanded that he would die fighting for the kingdom in which he was raised, then he would gladly have it so.

Gauntlet-clad hands clenched tightly into fists, ready to swing at any enemy so bold as to near within arm’s reach. Punches were thrown and kicks were given while King Alfor’s blade sliced through enemies with a sharp precision. Takashi managed to snap the occasional neck, but the majority of his opponents went down unconscious rather than dead. With Alfor’s half of enemies finally taken down, the king was now free to cut the throats of anyone crumpled upon the ground who was found still breathing.

While he worked, he gave himself the chance to catch his breath, clear his head, and ask, “Now tell me: how exactly did you escape?”

The warrior bit his lip, unsure of where to begin with the retelling of this story, and with time he just decided it would be best to explain it all as briefly as possible. Rip off the bandage with one quick tear. “Your wife.”

King Alfor paused, holding his sword up to a violet neck while he peered up past his shoulder to the human. “What?” he asked, low and shaky, but in a strange tone that was neither angry or distressed… for the moment. It was only stunned and worried.

“Your wife- Her Majesty Queen Thalia came to the dungeons to free me from prison. I’m… I’m sorry. She did not survive the trek back. An assassin got her before she could-”

“And you failed to protect her?!” Aflor gave a mighty roar while he ran the sword over his last enemy’s neck, then stood to sheath the blade. There was that familiar hot anger which burned in a white fire through the shadows of his eyes.

With the number of grave missteps the hired bodyguard had taken in only one day, that look was now all too familiar. He brought his head low with shame, then spoke in a weak voice. “Yes, Your Majesty. Yes, I did.” They were words that burned and scorched deep through his core.

Many times the elven king opened, then closed, then opened his mouth, trying to find something to say. Something that would smite the assassin, punish the incompetent guard, and bring back his beloved wife all at once. But there was nothing. Nothing he could say would accomplish any of that.

So then he wearily brought his hands over his face, drew in a long heavy breath between brown fingers, and left himself with only his thoughts to comfort him.

His wife was dead- killed by an assassin sent by who was once valued as his allied neighbor. The same personal guard which endangered his daughter now failed to protect his wife, and his land was crumbling to ruin beneath him.

When Alfor moved the palms of his hands in circles, Takashi knew he was rubbing away silent sobs, and he then promptly dragged his hands down to his cheeks, tugging the dark flesh with him. He was the very image of dread.

The two men waited through the uneasy silence, and then Alfor shook his head and brought his palms to his waist. “No, I will not unleash rage upon you. Clearly the Gods frowned upon me when I last thought to do that.”

Surprised with this new mentality, Takashi gaped his mouth open, but was stopped before he could speak.

“It is true. If I had not locked you away, you would have been here to fight for my men, and my wife would still live. I am no fool, so I will spare you my wrath.”

A part of Takashi still wondered with guilt if he deserved wrath, but he saw no point in arguing against the King whom he had already wronged such. “What will you have of me, then?” he asked in favor of honoring the ruler of his homeland.

Alfor thought with a stroke to his sharp silver beard, then finally decided to share, “I have sent my daughter away with my closest advisor. I give you the chance to guard her once again and redeem your knighthood, Ser Takashi Shirogane.”

The warrior raised his brow and froze, taken aback from this new opportunity and his restored honorifics.

“If you can see my flower and her escort out of these lands safely, then I will forgive your errors and smile upon you from the heavens.”

“The heavens?” Takashi quickly asked.

“Yes. You thought those were the last of our enemy? No, not at all. They will come in more waves- they have only yet to reach this place. I already know I will die here an honorable king at the foot of my throne and my crown on my head. It is expected.”

Takashi knew it was true; this was exactly what Queen Thalia told him. The warrior shook his head with denial, then began to plead, “Your Majesty, this is-”

But the King would not have it. “I am not fully blinded, however, by my honor. I am well aware of what is excessive. This is why I do not keep my daughter here. I have sent her away, and I will have my legacy passed on through her. When she is older, she will return to defend her name, and on that day she will do her father proud.”

Takashi was once again lost for words, and Alfor stepped forward to rest a hand on his shoulder. “But for this to happen, I need your aid. Allura needs your aid.”

Lips were pursed in a tight line, and Takashi found himself in discord with his conscious. He could remain here and defend the kingdom with its current ruler, and in doing so he would risk his life of the heir as well as his own life. Or he could flee and protect the last of the royal bloodline, but it would promise the certain collapse of this realm and with it the death of its king.

A decision like this could not possibly be taken lightly. Alfor made it easier when he paired his hand with the other and now held both of Takshi’s shoulders.

“Please…” he now whispered in a softer voice, and his eyes had a softness that was never seen before by the employed bodyguard.

So Takashi concluded his thoughts, then asked in a shaken voice, “Where might I find the Princess?”

King Alfor smiled with satisfaction, then released his hands from Takashi’s shoulders to instead hand him a map upon tanned parchment.

There were diagrams of countless hidden tunnels beneath the castle, and plenty of paths between the twisting streets past the castle gates. Districts were illustrated in perfect detail, and even the forests beyond were drawn to display were streams and rivers flowed free.

Everywhere in the immediate area where Takashi might possibly need to travel- he could see it all clearly before him.

It was amazing.

“You will find the Princess with her escort where the western channels of our wellspring let out to meet the market district.”

The knight took a moment to quickly drive that into his memory, then looked up at the king with a hopeful stare. Before any further questions could be asked, however, he was shoved towards the wall, and there was a new panic in Alfor’s eyes.

“But you must go now! Forces are coming- I can hear them. Leave through this hidden passage, and it will buy you time. You must hurry!”

Takashi hesitated with confusion, and that only made Alfor more rushed. The knight wanted to know more about where to go and how to get there, but he had no chance as he was shoved past an extravagant hanging tapestry and into a hidden dark tunnel beyond.

He could see nothing, and after a few moments of stillness, he decided to turn and peek past the tassells of the tapestry. When he did, he observed as just in that moment, a black arrow soared across the center of the hall to meet the proud king through his stomach.

The young knight was stricken with horror, and he had to raise his thumb to his teeth to hold back a cry of grief. The king was thrown back onto the stone steps of his throne, but he furiously ripped the arrow from his stomach to surge forward and courageously meet battle…

Only to be hit through the head with a second arrow.

That was when Takashi could witness no more, and he turned to run. He knew fair Altea was finally taken, and the realm had only one last hope for justice.

He had to find Princess Allura, and he had to take her to safety beyond the borders of these lands.

He had to guard her.

While running through the tunnels of the hidden passageways beneath the floors of the castle, he tried his best to follow the map given to him, but it was difficult in the poor light. He was fairly certain he made the right turns, but there was no way to know completely. All these walls looked the same to him.

Altea’s capital was an elven city with many channels to reach countless destinations, and as a result the soil was rich but damp. Water trickled down in small streamlets between the cobblestones that held up these passageways, moss grew where water once reached, and a muskiness hanged in the air which made breathing difficult.

He lost track of time, forgetting to measure the seconds in his head the skillful way he had learned when he was a boy, and as a result he was clueless to how long this travel was taking him. An hour, perhaps? That was only a guess.

When he saw a faint glow at the end of a tunnel, however, relief momentarily washed over him, and he sprinted forward to meet the dim moonlight. Oh thank the Gods- he successfully found the way out of these castle chambers.

He met the night air again, and he took it in graciously. Not much time was spent to relish the escape from thick air, however. He took a second to observe his surroundings, then continue on. He was now standing at the edge of the royal district market, burning in fire and ruin, and he knew he had to travel a few blocks south to find the channel where the fallen King directed him to.

But first…

His gaze fell to a familiar grey shop at the corner of the market, still miraculously intact, and he made a march straight for it. It was the royal blacksmith. He could arm himself again there, possibly.

When he approached the wood and iron door, he gave a loud knock, then listened for an answer.

Nothing.

Another knock paired with a shout this time, then. “Hello?” He considered identifying himself, but chose to disregard the prospect. If the shop was taken by Galra, he didn’t want to rouse conflict.

Besides, there was no need. This time, he received a response, and it was the same response he wanted.

A movement of some furniture, and then a familiar anxious voice. “Who’s there?”

“Garrett!” Takashi grinned, then pressed his face against the door before him.

“You can’t be Garrett; I'm Garrett.”

What? “No- no, no, no! It’s me, Takashi!”

There was a pause, and the knight was suddenly worried his friend had turned him away. The worry ended, however, when Garrett’s voice spoke again. “Huh? Takashi?”

“You know! Um…” what was that popular nickname his friends and the townsfolk were calling him? Wasn't it some kind of shortened version of his surname? Yes, right! “Shiro- it's Shiro!”

“I know!” the voice on the other door insisted. “I just… I was told you were in prison. What are you-?”

“I'll explain when you let me in.” The smoke from the destructive fires was doing similar damage to his lungs. He had to get indoors immediately.

“Right, right.”

Takashi waited as the padlock was released, and the iron bolt over the door was crossed. He was now free to enter, and a slight crack in the doorway communicated it.

When he passed through, the new lighter breaths were yet another relief, but not dramatically so. This shop was a smith and armory, after all. The fires were dead but the everlasting harshness of ash and flame still hung mildly in the air.

Garrett locked the door once again behind his friend, then turned and untied the sweaty cloth from around his forehead. “What happened?” he finally asked. “Why are you here and not locked up?”

Before answering, Takashi decided to cross the room and help himself to the cauldron of water upon a table. Under different circumstances, he would have the gentle courtesy to ask permission first, but after sprinting so far and standing amidst smoke, he had the burning need to wash his throat. It had to be remedied. He grabbed the matching iron ladle, then spooned the cool water to his lips.

Garrett did not protest, and he waited for his friend to finish before expecting an answer. “Well?”

Takashi sighed and put down the ladle, then finally explained. “After the attack began, Queen Thalia came and set me free. When I encountered King Alfor, he sent me away from the castle grounds.”

Hearing this oversimplified story, Garrett was pleased, and he offered a glad smile. “Good! Now you can rest here and wait out the attack. I have a fortified bunk downstairs that should hold one more person.”

But Takashi shook his head, then brought another drink to his lips. “No need,” he refused the welcome when his mouth was free again. “I must set off again once I’m done here. I need to find and guard the Princess.”

“Set off?” Garrett repeated, absolutely dumbfounded. “But you just got here! And it's dangerous out there!”

Another shake of Takashi’s head refused the plea, and Garrett knew he would not be convinced.

“Did you not hear me?” The knight spoke low, now edging close to grave sternness. “I have to find the Princess. Her life depends on me.”

There was a new gravity in the air, and in it Garrett blinked, then dropped his shoulders. “But…-”

“Besides: Altea has fallen, Garrett. King Alfor is dead. I watched the last blow that killed him. He’s dead, along with his wife and forces.”

The smith knew what that meant, but he was too frightened to speak it himself, so Takashi did for him.

“There is nothing now to keep the Galra Empire from shredding apart the remains of this place. If you linger here, you will die.”

A silence grew between the two men, and the younger one shuffled uncomfortably on his feet. He measured the risks and benefits of each option, and when he was finished he gave a sigh. “I'm sorry, but I can't go. I’m not like you; I’m not a legendary knight or some honorable hero. I'm just… Garrett, the blacksmith. I think I’ll have a better chance staying here.”

Takashi’s heart sunk, hearing how low his young friend thought of himself, but there was time wasted behind urging or comforting him. All he could say was, “I disagree. I think you could be as great a hero as you want to be, just like anyone else.”

There was a warmth that resembled the golden glow of sunlight, and it shone in a brief wave through the widened stare of Garrett. He was captured, but the words weren't enough yet to fully convince him, so he still remained quiet.

“But I know it is not my decision to make. All I ask is that you help me take up arms. That’s what I came for.”

To that, the blacksmith nodded with a smile, then crossed to the back of the shop. “I can do that for you, yeah.”

While he looked over his crafted inventory, Takashi saw an oiled cloth on the table of tools and used it to grease the joints of his armor. His movements would not cause so much noise now, and he could move in silence.

“Have you any new castings of my last sword and shield?” he decided to ask while Garrett was searching. That set was absolutely perfect. The lion-engraved shield took on any blow with ease, and the sword sliced smoothly through any plate or maille. If he could have a copy, he would surely be ready to take down any foe.

“No,” was Garrett’s unfortunate answer. “Carbonizing so much steel was a long process to go through, and the hard etchings over the hilt and blade took me an eternity to finish. I never even bothered with a second set.”

Figures. Takashi sighed with disappointment, then crossed his arms. “Tell me what your next best offer is, then.”

“I have a claymore,” the blacksmith provided. “It's also carbonized, and it has a balanced pommel.”

“Hm.” Claymores were heavy, but maybe, just for this attack, it would be better to have one mighty weapon rather than hassling two items at once. This was a charge, not a battle. His objective was getting out as soon as possible, not surviving many long hours of stationed combat to take down numbers. Brute force would be better for this strategy. “Alright, I’ll take it.”

Garrett dismounted the heavy weapon from the wall with effortless ease, then passed it to the knight with an anxious smile. “Be careful out there, you hear?”

“Thank you,” Takashi spoke softly while taking the large blade into his hold. “Stay safe down there too. I expect to find you again after this is all over.”

Garrett nodded in mutual agreement, then decided to bring Takashi in for a hug. It was brief, and when it was over the knight turned towards the door to leave. A brief pause before gripping the handle caught Garrett’s attention, and before leaving, Takashi said one last parting sentence.

“Remember: heroes shine brightest through times of darkness.”

With him gone, Garrett was left alone in the ash grey stillness of the shop and armory. The sharp air of fire still hung between the walls, but like the silent stone hearth, it was passed and dead in a kind of ashy solitude. Everything felt so much colder. More distant. More unwelcoming. There was no shining warmth here.

With claymore in his grasp, Takashi traveled through the fire and rubble and made his way past the crumbling streets. Flames were roaring and shingled buildings were collapsing. There was hardly any evident restraint to the destruction done by the invaders.

The moon now illuminated his vision and reading the map was far easier as opposed to the hidden chambers. It told him where to go, and just as he neared the same channel outlet right where King Alfor told him to be, he saw nearly the exact sight he had hoped to see.

By some blessed miracle, he arrived just in time to find Princess Allura and her escort emerge from the tunneled conduits. They were soaked by the water, and the red haired gentleman was carrying the princess in his arms. What immediately came as a surprise, however, was how Takashi could see that the girl had her eyes closed and was unconscious.

The knight stepped forward and opened his mouth to ask why she was in such a state, but before he could say a word, the escort spoke instead.

“Ser Takashi Shirogane?” Pale lips moved in time with an alarmed voice beneath an impressive orange moustache. “What are you-? How did-? What?”

It was peculiar that Takashi could not recall ever meeting this man, but he apparently recognized him and knew his name. How was that? No, nevermind, it didn’t matter. He shook his head, then proceeded closer and spoke urgently. “There’s no time to explain. King Alfor sent me to guide you and the Princess safely out of the city. I need you to follow me.”

There was hesitation in the eyes of the escort advisor- Takashi could see it. The man clearly knew that the knight was dishonored and imprisoned only a few hours ago, and it was a sudden shift to entrust their lives in his hands completely unannounced. The man was unarmed, however, and he knew it well. Were he to encounter any enemies, he would have no way to strike them down. Whether he wanted it or not, it was a plain and simple fact that he needed Ser Takashi and his blade.

“Very well,” he finally agreed, then walked forward to join the side of the restored guard. “No need for more squiddling. Lead onward, and fret not over me; these legs aren’t as doddery as they appear.”

To that, Takashi curiously raised a brow, then decided to silently turn and begin their escape out of these city boarders. As long as he had the escort's cooperation, he would not care to question anything as mundane as his vocabulary.

He did still, however, question why the Princess was not awake. Many times he turned to glance over his shoulder. Sure enough, her eyes always remained closed. What happened? Why was she unallowed to be of mind during all of this?

In truth, he was disappointed. He had hoped his reunion with the Princess would be a bit grander. Oh well. All that truly mattered was getting her safely through the chaos of this attack. So long as he could do that, he would be a satisfied man.

The beginning of their departure together began with no incident. They passed through many streets in a quiet peace that disturbingly easy. But as they journeyed closer to the heart of the city, enemies became more frequent. The skilled knight took most of them down with no struggle, but still found a challenge in a few of them. There was one reaver who fought past Takashi and got dangerously close to the Princess and the man carrying her, but just like his comrades, this opponent ultimately went down to meet the ground. Thanks to his efforts, the two Alteans remained safe.

But the fights were becoming more difficult, and Takashi could feel it. Still, he couldn’t let himself be deterred. There was only one way out of this, and it was forward.

As he reached the center plaza, the very core of Altea’s common folk, the trio then stumbled upon a mortifying sight.

Markets and buildings were crushed to discarded ruin, and a great number of Galran forces were posted here, likely to build numbers and discuss strategy. They propped up wooden panels gathered from the debris, and behind these crude structures they stood amongst each other. There must have been at least fifty men, and they were all armed and ready to fight.

Takashi hid behind the distant shadows of a building corner, and he had no idea how one man could take down so many numbers at once. He scratched and scraped his mind for any possible solutions, but none came to him. He looked down to the heavy claymore in his grip, now hating his foolish decision to take this dreaded weight over a simpler set of sword and shield.

The red-haired escort must have sensed his wary, but it was interrupted when he gasped with a grin, then gently whispered to direct the knight’s attention. “Look! Over there! Towards the basilica.”

Takashi’s gaze obeyed the instruction, and surely enough, there was a thin silhouette against the glowing scarlet of rising embers. It stood upon the ruins of what was once an apse, and the figure stared long and hard down at the unaware soldiers.

“Is he one of ours?” the Altean man asked in another whisper, as though Takashi could make out any distinct features. The truth was: he couldn’t.

“I can’t tell.”

The true answer came, however, when the figure dropped to a squat and swiped his arm with one swift movement. Shortly after, three men down below gave grunts and cries of pain before collapsing behind the hidden view of hastily fortified wooden planks. No one had any way of knowing if they were truly dead, but it was certainly a safe guess.

To this, Takashi’s eyes widened with awe, and his mind immediately jumped to the one person he knew who wielded throwing knives so well.

“Keith?”

Little time passed before the enemies were alarmed by their fallen allies, and they scanned the area for anyone responsible. Just as they spotted the silhouette, it dropped down from the apse and charged forward to meet combat head on.

“Keith!”

What the Hell was this idiot doing?

The knight gently nudged the sleeping princess and her escort into the remains of the building next to him, and in a harsh whisper he instructed, “Stay completely silent, and do not leave this structure until I come to retrieve you and every last man is dead. Understand?”

A quiet but firm nod told Takashi, “Yes.”

Takashi then stood and stepped away from the shadows of the building, and with a few deep breaths to steady himself, he rushed forward to join Keith with his claymore raised to battle.

During the charge, Keith brought his arm up to throw more knives, and with it he took down an additional five men. His work was impressive, but if he continued decreasing his range so carelessly, it would not last.

Takashi took the lead by engaging direct combat, and seeing this, Keith was visibly relieved. A smile dressed his face, but not long enough to distract him from the warrior lunging towards him. The smaller human ducked away from the attack, then aimed a knife into the back of the enemy’s neck when he passed.

Now that Takashi was there to handle immediate conflict, Keith allowed himself to take up some range once again. With quick steps he distanced himself from the center of the fighting and he continued tossing knives wherever he could get a clear shot. It was a seemingly strategic use of short range and long range, but they were still overwhelmed. There were simply too many enemies, and not enough allies.

That changed, however, when mighty steps came trampling down the streets towards the taken plaza. The disturbance came from behind Takashi, so he could not see the person approaching, but he felt each shake through the cobblestone beneath him.

“Garrett?!” Keith cheered with a thrilled laugh, and he threw a knife at another foe while dodging more attacks.  
Before Takashi could turn to see the friend who so bravely joined the fray, a charging soldier at his side was suddenly knocked back a dozen feet with one single blow. His jaw dropped open upon seeing such power, and that was when Garrett came charging onward with a massive grin and a mighty shout. He was clearly sick of cowering, and he was now ready to fight.

He had dressed himself in a heavy plated armor of warm bronze, and in his grasp he so effortlessly swung a spiked square warhammer. Its head alone was as large as his.

Suddenly, Takashi didn’t find his claymore so heavy or impressive.

With three skilled fighters gathered to fight, taking down the remaining enemies wasn’t near so challenging. Takashi was pleasantly surprised. Who knew the timid and modest blacksmith could turn out such a formidable warrior?

When the fight was over and the trio had a moment to rest, they came together for a momentary hug and cheered in their brief victory.

“Garrett!” Keith exclaimed, breathless but ecstatic. “What were you thinking, you crazy brute?!”

Garrett set his hammer down to the ground for a minute, then wiped the beading sweat off his dark brow. “Well,” he explained, “I figured it was time I stand up and start being a hero.”

Takashi turned his gaze to catch Garrett’s, and in that stare they both smiled to each other. He was glad to have such an influence over his friend, and now they would surely be able to fight and get through this conflict together.

But they weren’t the only ones to get through this. One quick look around the plaza told Takashi that the entire southern side of the capital was in flaming ruin- far worse than the north. Surely his home in the lower district, along with anyone inside, must have been threatened.

“Keith, do you know where Mama is? Do you know how she’s doing?” Suddenly upon remembering her, Takashi was in a panic. If anything happened to her, he wouldn’t know what to do. His blood was racing and freezing all at once, making his head dizzy.

“Don’t worry!” the younger human assured, then offered a faint smile to his frightened brotherly figure. “The Mamora took her and escorted out of the city hours ago.”

“Your mercenary band?” Garrett asked, and Keith nodded.

“Trust me: she’ll be safe.”

That helped to ease Takashi’s nerves, but there was still the overhanging sense of dread that lingered with him. He had no time to address it, however, when he remembered the two lives he was set on guarding, and with no words, he turned and made a straight line for the building he left them in.

“Huh?” Keith irritably called after him as he left. “Where are you going? The exit is the other way, fool!”

“You’ll see!” he answered. When he approached the stones and planks of the structure, he knelt down, then helped the older escort to stand with his princess. The advisor smiled appreciatively beneath his tangled moustache, then followed Takashi as he led him across the plaza towards his companions.

“Keith, Garrett, this is… uh-” the knight began, but soon found himself unable to continue since he hadn’t even a chance to learn the Altean man’s name.

“Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe!” he declared as a cheerful introduction. It was a mouthful, however, and he knew it. “But don’t worry: Coran will suffice just fine.”

There was a brief pause, and after it, Takashi nodded his head with clarity. “Right: this is Coran, and-”

“Her Highness Princess Allura?” Garrett spoke next to interrupt Takashi. He saw the seemingly sleeping girl in Coran’s arm, and the royal smith immediately recognized her from portraits hung up in his higher district.

Keith didn’t appear nearly as pleased. He gazed at the princess confused, frustrated, then unimpressed. “You mean Luna?” he grumbled low, now understanding and furious at the deceit of his older guardian.

“I’m sorry, Keith, and I’ll explain later. For now, we need to make sure the Princess escapes Altea unharmed.” The shorter boy still seemed impassive, so Takashi further pressed on with a hard, “Is that clear?”

Keith sighed and rolled his eyes, then finally submitted. “Yes, sir.” It was a tone that equally communicated, “Sure, whatever.”

Takashi was satisfied, however, and decided to lead the rest of his allies onward. They would pass through southbound cobblestone streets, illuminated by the dancing lights of restless flames, before encountering more enemies.

Fortunately, there were far less this time. Five Galran soldiers blocked off the street, and Takashi charged forward to meet them. He would be the first line of defense with Keith as the ranged back line, and Garrett would stand as support before the vulnerable mercenary. It was a coherent strategy that needn’t even be communicated. They all knew their positions, and they stood where they needed be.

The battle was faring well when Keith tossed another knife to take down a man, and found it knocked away from its path by an oncoming arrow. Instead, the arrow invaded the path and shot down the man instead. Keith’s kill was stolen.

When he found the shimmering iridescent blues of the feathers used to guide the arrow, he knew exactly who it belonged to.

“Lance!” he roared furiously. It was known how the elf deliberately adorned his arrows with the trimmed feathers of a peacock to identify his own kills. It suited him perfectly; his flashy pride was just that immense.

Steps were heard leaping from roof to roof above the heads of the companions, and a cheery voice rose up above the clashing steel. “Hah! You guys need some help?”

But Keith scowled, then spat to the ground towards Lance. “Not from yo-”

“Yes!” Takashi insisted. “Yes we do!”

“Great!” Lance piped gladly, then progressed onward to rain more arrows down to the enemies. “Come on, Katie!”

With that command, the petite girl hauled herself up onto the roof behind Lance, following his quick steps. Her spells were still weak, amounting to little more than hex barriers, but any help would be preferable to none at all. Takashi was glad for it.

With the rooftop mage and archer added to their forces, the team was able to make progress with speed, and it was soon when they finally caught view of the front city gate.

“There!” Coran cheered merrily. “We’re almost there!”

Lance and Katie both jumped down from the last roof to join the ground beneath their allies, and it seemed success was so certain...

Until a giant gladiator came barrelling down the horizontally perpendicular street beside them.

He came with quaking force unlike any opponent the team ever encountered, and in his grasp he carried an equally massive morningstar. It tore apart walls beside him as he ran to demonstrate his might, and then it came swinging towards the escaping team.

“Go!” Takashi demanded. “The gate is right there! I’ll hold him off and cover your escape!”

“Like Hell you will!” Keith hissed, then stepped forward to stand beside his lifelong ally.

Lance stood on the opposite side, then raised his bow and drew the string back, pointed and aimed at the ready. “Yeah- no! Perish the thought!”

“Not today," Garrett agreed and joined Keith’s side, then swung his warhammer before him to prepare his arms.

Katie smirked, then flexed both of her grasps to rise a glowing emerald shade from her fingertips. “We can’t let you take all the glory.”

Coran stepped back to distance himself and his princess from the conflict, but even he didn’t cower away to leave Takashi alone in this battle.

The knight smirked with satisfaction, then decided this would do. He and his friends could take on this monster just fine.

With one last furious battle cry, Takashi sprinted forward, then brought his claymore up to fight. Katie casted a barrier spell around him to guard him from minor attacks, and Garrett charged forward to strike the other side. One enemy could not possibly defend both fronts. Meanwhile, Keith and Lance both worked to strike the foe with ranged weapons, but there was no success. The thick armor of the beast deflected their knives and arrows alike.

Then there was the disturbing sound of a shatter, and with one massive blow, Katie’s barrier around Takashi was destroyed. The impact of this destruction was enough to send her tumbling back a great number of feet, and she was immediately weakened. No more support could come from the mage.

Takashi was left to fight with nothing but the armor on his back to protect him, and it was not nearly enough. One hit with the morningstar sent him down on his face to the ground, and then a second hit crushed his right arm. The steel plating did nothing to save him, as though it were made from the cheapest foil.

An unsettling snap and crunch accompanied the crushing weight of the enemy’s weapon, and crimson blood spilled from every possible gap and opening of Takashi’s flattened armor. It splattered and spread like a galaxy beneath him, and he shrieked and howled with overwhelming agony.

Beneath the bicep, every inch of his right arm was flattened like parchment- steel, skin, muscle, and bone alike.

Garrett froze in horror like Lance, but above his his own dread Keith managed to shout with his burning rage. He sprinted forward to meet the air of the monster, and all the while he constantly threw knife after knife towards the one who so savagely took down his brother. None of the weapons affected the enemy, but that didn’t stop him. That didn’t stop his wrath. That didn’t stop his craving for fiery blood and vengeance.

He wasn’t stopped until the massive gladiator rose his arm and smacked Keith into the stone of city wall like an insect. He was fortunate the morningstar wasn’t used. Instead, it remained seated above Takashi’s crushed limb.

Before Garrett could even think of retreating from the opponent’s heels, he was then likewise smacked towards the opposite direction. He hit an old and vacant home which collapsed above him when he smashed through the side wall.

Seeing every last one of his combative allies taken down, Lance was finally snapped out of his stunned terror, and he reached over his shoulder to his quiver so he may prepare one last attack. He would take down this barbarian with one more arrow because that’s all it would take, and that’s all time could afford. If he wanted to keep himself and the Princess safe, he would have to take down this enemy now.

Especially considering the gladiator abandoned his morningstar, and he was now marching towards the last three remaining citizens. All humans were defeated, and now he was determined to take down the three elves.

But Lance wouldn’t allow it, and he didn’t allow it. With careful aim and a steady hand, he brought an arrow straight into the forehead of the beast. It reached right between his eyes and through his cranium, and that was enough to kill him instantly.

Lance smiled to himself as the enemy toppled to the ground, but he didn’t allow himself to indulge in his victory. He ran forward to dig Garrett out from the collapsed ruin of the house above him, and Keith soon joined his side. Keith was injured with a broken arm and a bruised face, but it was not nearly enough to prevent him from helping to retrieve Garrett. He dug with his good arm, and soon bit by bit they could both see the gold hearted blacksmith underneath.

He was fine.

The plated armor and matching helmet protected him.

Still, no matter how fine he was, his strength wasn’t enough to lift the morningstar up off of Takashi’s arm. It remained stuck there, unmoving and unrelenting in its gruesome pool of red.

“Cut-... cut it off!” Takshi desperately wheezed between heavy breaths.

“What?” Keith asked with eyebrows pulled low.

Lance was similarly concerned. “Are you sure-?”

“Yes!” Takashi exclaimed in an increasingly hysterical voice. “Get me away from this damn thing! Please!”

Keith and Lance were still unconvinced, but Garrett wisely understood. “That morningstar isn’t going anywhere, guys.” With that, he bent down to the ground, then easily picked up the claymore for himself to hold. “If Shiro wants to get out of here and live, we need to cut his arm off right now.”

Lance understood and nodded his head first, but Keith was still hesitant. He drew in a few steady breaths through his nose to calm himself, then finally after waiting, nodded his head as well.

This was truly their only option, as difficult as that was to accept.

With mutual agreement between all conscious members of the immediate party, Garrett allowed himself to raise the claymore, then bring it down with might to slice Takashi’s arm in one swift movement. Fewer slashes would mean less damage. Less damage would mean easier healing.

The knight gave a voice-shattering howl of pain, but was ultimately glad for it. His friends all raised him up to sit away from the grisly mess, and Garrett instantly got to work untying the cloth around his forehead to instead wrap it as a tourniquet around Takashi’s bicep. For now, it would reduce the bleeding.

Still, he was weak. It was shown by his paleness and inability to walk without stumble. Keith stood at his side to support and help him wander past the gate. Lance brought up the fallen Katie on his back, moving his quiver and lute to either side of his waist to make way for the friend. Coran followed close behind with sleeping Allura still cradled in his arms, and Garrett made sure to be the last one out so he may cover everyone else’s leave.

Before them stood the green knolls and fields which surrounded the outskirts of Altea’s capital. They followed a stone road to pass a great number of hills, and upon mounting the tallest rise of the valley, they turned to look back on the great city they all once loved.

It was crumbling in a chaotic disaster that brought weight into their hearts. It seemed that there was truly nothing to make any of this possibly worse, and just as these thoughts reached their minds, a horrible blood curdling shriek shook the growing amber of sunrise.

From behind them and over their heads, up in the ashy skies, came a grand beast of dark scales and outstretched wings. Upon its head were a set of six twisted horns, and its eyes glowed a bright golden yellow against the nightly blackness of its body.

“A dragon?” Lance whispered low in a whisper, completely dumbfounded. “What is a dragon doing here?”

And just then, the dark creature began its circling descent towards the ruined city. It gave one last mighty roar of power, then joined the disrepair of what once stood as Altea’s grand capital.

“It was called there,” Keith harshly explained in a quick tongue, then turned Takashi and himself to face the road once more. “Besides: that doesn’t matter anymore. Let’s get a move on. We all need a damn good rest.”

To this, Lance curiously raised a thin eyebrow, but couldn’t bring himself to argue. Keith was right: everyone wanted rest, and that included Lance. The party proceeded along the road for miles as it turned to thin dirt beneath their feet and the trees of lush farmlands became more frequent.

After hours of silence, Lance looked around and saw the beaten down, gloomy, and defeated look of his friends. To potentially lift spirits, Lance decided to begin song, and he selected a tune that he felt best reflected the weary souls of all around him. As the melody progressed, Garrett, Takashi, Coran, and even Keith joined the familiar song with their weak and woeful voices.

* * *

"Miri it is while sumer ilast with fugheles song,  
Oc nu neheth windes blast and weder strong.  
Ei ei what this niht is long, and ich with wel michel wrong,  
Soregh and murn and fast.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope it was worth the wait! As always, comments make my day, and I'll be happy to hear what you think! Again: thank you. Readers like you are what make my long nights worth it. <3
> 
> SOME NOTES:  
> "Squiddling" is medieval slang for wasting time with unnecessary chit-chat.  
> "Doddery" is medieval slang for old and clumsy.  
> The song which Lance and his crew sing at the end is this:( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7UvesKl8_W8 ) A modern English translation can be found in the video description. It describes the woe and fear of perishing during the cold harsh months of winter.


End file.
